Tara's kisses fall like snowflakes, drifting everywhere, always surprising when one lands on the tip of Buffy's nose, always exciting when she catches one with her tongue. Buffy sighs, Oh, love, and Tara smiles above her through the flicker of candles and fairy lights. Beloved, she whispers, beautiful. Buffy arches in her arms, feeling Tara's mouth blazing on her skin. Oh goddess, Buffy, and the words are muffled now, and Buffy gasps, writhes, burns; outside is winter, outside is cold, and the weight of snow is frozen tears; but, here, Tara, please, yes! and there is only joy, only summer.

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November 27, 2004